Memories
by MegaLuxray
Summary: A little bit of PruHun for you. Hungary goes to clean out her attic and finds pictures of a man she hasn't seen in forever... and remembers nothing about. Prussia x Hungary


Elizabeta was sitting on her couch, bored. There wasn't much to do on a day as rainy as today was. She flipped through the channels on TV, but there wasn't anything good on, so she turned it off again. She sighed and tried to think of something, _anything_ she could do to occupy her time.

Eventually, she decided it would be a good idea to clean out her attic. She had been meaning to for a while, but she had never gotten around to it. It was crowded up there, and she probably didn't even need half of the junk she had kept. And besides, it's not like she has anything better to do at the moment.

She walked down the hall, and pulled the rope on the trap door-like entrance, and the wooden stairs lowered themselves. Elizabeta was halfway up the stairs when she realized it would probably be a good idea to bring a flashlight. She went back to get one, then climbed back up the stairs that occasionally creaked under her feet. She turned on her flashlight and looked around. Most of the stuff in her attic consisted of boxes that she would have to go through. She held the flashlight between her teeth while she pulled the first box over.

She sifted through it and saw it was mostly some old clothes that didn't fit her anymore. Instead of carrying it down the stairs, she pushed it down and figured that she could pick it up later. Plus, if she tried to carry it down alone she'd probably end up falling on her face.

Elizabeta went through a few more boxes, pushing the junk down the stairs and putting the stuff worth keeping off to the side. She found a box full of pictures that was kind of large. It was big for a box of pictures, anyway. She tried to fight the urge to open it and look through it, but she lost the fight and opened the box. She took out a few pictures and smiled. There was one of her and Roderich and a few other countries on Roderich's birthday about twenty years ago. She went through a few more, but stopped. In one picture... was a man she had completely forgotten.

Gilbert Beilschmidt. The former nation of Prussia.

Her heart sank. It was just the two of them in that picture. Gilbert's white hair and red eyes stood out next to Elizabeta's brown hair and green eyes. Gilbert was giving her bunny ears. Elizabeta stared at the picture for awhile, trying to recall any memories she had of him.

She failed to do so.

The only reason she even remembered his name was because she had written it on the back of the picture. There it was, in her neat cursive writing: 'Gilbert Beilschmidt - Prussia'. She couldn't remember his voice no matter how hard she tried. She didn't even know what he was like anymore. He didn't look very mature, but she couldn't just go by how he looked in one picture. How long had she known him? She felt like she was close to him, but she wasn't sure why.

She ransacked the box, looking for any other pictures of the albino Prussian. She didn't care if he was just standing in the background; if he was in it, she wanted to see it. There was one where he looked like he was bothering Roderich, and one where he had pulled Elizabeta in to take a picture with him, Francis, and Antonio. In one, there was a small bird on his head, and Elizabeta remembered he had a pet. Now what was his name...? She flipped over the photo. "Gilbird..." she said to herself, "That's right..." She had even forgotten his bird. She couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the chick after Gilbert's dissolution.

She looked at a few more pictures, until she found one of the two of them sitting back to back, smiling and laughing. She was about to put it down and look at another, but she felt something taped to the back. She flipped it over and saw a note that said 'HUNGARY' on it in handwriting that was neat and messy at the same time. She took it off, gently so she wouldn't damage the note or the picture, and unfolded the note.

 _~~Hungary,_

 _So, I'm not really good at this kind of cheesy stuff, but West said this would be a good way to say, well... I think you're awesome. Not as awesome as me or anything, but still pretty awesome. Huh, y'know, West made it sound like writing would be easier. I still don't know what else to say. Meet me for some lunch or something? I mean, if you want._

 _P.S. If you don't want to, please don't hit me with a frying pan like you did with France. Not awesome._

 _-Prussia_

Elizabeta felt tears start to run down her cheeks and wiped them away. Did she go out with him? She wished she could remember. Then she froze. Did _anyone_ remember Gilbert? Ludwig had to remember his big brother, right? And... and Francis and Antonio... Gilbert was their best friend, wasn't he? She was pretty sure he was. But, if she had forgotten him when they were probably in some kind of relationship, who's to say they didn't remember him either? She wanted to call someone and ask, but she was afraid that if she mentioned him she would just get a 'Who?' like she was talking about Matthew with Kumajiro.

Elizabeta thought the world was so cruel to nations. She always had, the way that they had to watch every human they were close to die as they stayed young, feel the pain of when their land was burned or bombed, and now she knew that when a nation was dissolved it was like they had never existed. She wanted to remember Gilbert. That was all she wanted. Even if she didn't like him at all, she wanted to remember. After all, that was probably a good chunk of her life she had forgotten. She grabbed the note and a few pictures of the two of them and ran down the stairs, dodging the piles of stuff on the floor.

She taped the pictures up in her room, just so she wouldn't forget his face again. She would feel awful if she did. She looked at the note in her hands. She put it in her pocket, making sure she didn't crumple it too much. She went to get herself a glass of water and hopefully calm herself down a little, but there were still a million thoughts rattling around in her head.

If nobody remembered him, then nobody would know to visit his grave, right? That kind of made her depressed. Did nations even have graves? They had to. Dissolved nations didn't, well... just dissolve into nothing. Did they? Even if they did, there had to be some kind of memorial... right? She still didn't want to call anybody, but she reluctantly picked up the phone. If anyone knew where his grave was, it would be Ludwig.

"Hello?" said the German on the other end of the phone.

"Ah, hello, Germany," Elizabeta greeted him as if she wasn't upset about anything.

Ludwig seemed a little surprised to get a call from Elizabeta. "Do you need anything?"

"Uh, yes, actually. But first... I just have to ask you something." He wouldn't know where he was laid to rest if he didn't even remember him.

"Shoot."

Elizabeta hesitated, already knowing the answer. "...Do you remember Gilbert?"

"Gilbert?" Ludwig echoed.

"You know, Prussia."

"The state?"

Elizabeta shook her head, even though she knew Ludwig couldn't see it. "The nation. Or well, he used to be," she paused, then hesitantly added, "Your brother."

For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Elizabeta heard a click and Ludwig hung up. "Well it wasn't as much of a train wreck as I thought it would be." She sounded like she didn't really care that Ludwig didn't remember, but in reality she felt like crying. She was probably the only person in the world who knew Gilbert had ever existed.

She sat down and sighed, taking another sip of water. Everyone deserved to be left flowers or something. She would have to track him down. There had to be some kind of record of his burial. There had to be. She just had to do some digging. Ask around a little for the grave of Gilbert Beilschmidt. Yeah. She would find it eventually. She would find it and... leave him flowers, and... and just talk with him. Apologize for forgetting. ...Tell him she missed him.

She would find it if it was the last thing she did.


End file.
